


August 2nd, Thirty Years Later

by pajamaprodigy



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: F/M, Gen, Original Character(s), Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 00:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8511757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pajamaprodigy/pseuds/pajamaprodigy
Summary: Thirty years after the events of Durarara!!x13, the peaceful everyday life that Anri, Mikado, Masaomi, and Saki had wished for is finally a reality.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For Morgan's (memethighs.tumblr.com) birthday! Happy birthday, and I wish you the best in the coming years!

            Sonohara-Dou was closed for the day, a neatly written sign in hiragana pasted inside the window of the shop, the door locked and latched, and the four cats left “on watch” with heaping bowls of food in front of the counter. They were used to their lives as shop cats, and would not harm any of the antique pottery or scratch the old furniture; Anri was sure of that. She smiled, imagining watching the cats on the security footage after her return. Her handbag bounced gently against her side as she strode down the Ikebukuro street.

 

* * *

 

            By the time she arrived at Russia Sushi, Ryuugamine Mikado was already there, talking to Marina, who greeted guests now that Simon had taken over the management. Simon’s health had stayed strong into his old age, but after Denis retired, he moved his work behind the counter, and Marina and Yoshinobu had been hired to wait tables, make deliveries, and pass out flyers. The restaurant also closed earlier now. Marina was speaking calmly, inquiring of Mr. Ryuugamine’s health, but there was something about her that had always made Anri uneasy. She reminded her of _someone_ , but she couldn’t for the life of her remember whom.

 

_“Yes, yes, I know. It’s ok. We’ll protect each other. I can cut her if I have to. Just like I once cut h--”_

 

            The voice had changed. Or perhaps it was Anri who had changed. Or perhaps it was both of them. Well, no matter.

 

* * *

 

            “I’m doing very well, thank you,” Mikado answered brightly. “I’m just waiting on my friends. Come to think of it, we said we were meeting at eleven. It’s probably too early for me to worry.” He pulled out his phone and checked the clock anxiously.

 

            “Good morning,” Anri said, and Mikado jumped. “Sorry.”

 

            “No, no, it’s my fault I didn’t see you there. It’s so nice to see you again! Now we just have to wait for Masaomi and Saki… I hope nothing happened…”

 

            “Well, they’re coming all the way from Nakano, and you know trains can take time, especially …” Anri stopped, wondering if continuing would make Mikado more worried.

 

            “Right, right, and then they’d have to walk from the station.” Mikado smiled.

            Marina cut in, “So how many will you be?”

 

            “Four. We’d like a table for four.”

 

* * *

 

            “Welcome! Welcome!” Simon’s deep voice was strong and refreshing as ever. “Ryuugamine, Sonohara, and Kida and Kida will be here too, don’t worry!” He leaned in closer and said in a stage whisper, “Be sure to ask them why Naoto is busy on a Saturday.”

  
            “Thank you, Simon,” said Mikado. He and Anri nodded at each other. Saki and Masaomi didn’t often talk about their children unless they were asked, but their love for Yui, Reiji, and Naoto was limitless, and it showed 

 

            Just as Anri and Mikado were getting settled, the heavy wooden door swung open, and Marina led in two middle aged adults, a man and a woman, enthusiastically answering Simon’s booming greeting. The woman wore a light gray dress and a pink sweater, her chin-length hair a youthful golden-brown. The man’s hair, on the other hand, was graying, not to the same extent as Anri’s, but it still stood out elegantly against his dark brown hair. He had also dressed up a bit for the occasion, wearing one of the buttoned and collared shirts he had eschewed as a teen and his expressive face was heavily lined, but she recognized him instantly. Of course she did.

 

            “Masaomi! Saki!” Mikado called out, probably louder than he needed to, and made to stand up, beaming.

 

            Anri waved, and Saki waved back, making eye contact. “Good morning, Mikado, Anri. I’m sorry we were late; I was taking Naoto to his school,” she said, as she and Masaomi walked up to their table and took their seats.

 

* * *

 

            In recent years, Masaomi’s limp had become a bit more pronounced, and Anri could tell that Mikado had noticed. Too much time had passed for them to carry anything like blame or resentment, but Anri still worried sometimes that the walls between her and her friends would rebuild themselves. Anri knew these worries were baseless, however, and they meant little to her. She could easily banish them.

 

            “Has Naoto’s school started back up again yet?” Mikado asked, pretending not to know that he very much did not.

 

            Masaomi, meanwhile, was still joking around with Simon. “An old man of a thousand years like you running a restaurant? Shouldn’t you be telling stories to your grandchild of delivering sushi in a Russian blizzard on New Year’s Eve? Or knitting a scarf by the fireside? Or reprimanding youth for our newfangled cell phones?”

 

            “Masaomi, Masaomi, you know I don’t have a grandchild. I’d have to borrow one from someone else! If you’re so young, why don’t you be my grandson? I’ll knit you a sweater made of sushi with no pocket for your cell phone!”

 

            “No, no! I don’t need any sweaters. My scrubs are polyester so they keep me more than warm enough.”

 

            “I suppose I have to be my own grandson then,” said Simon with comically exaggerated dejection. All five of them laughed, as Simon left the table.

 

            It took confidence to joke about being old, and it made Anri’s heart soar to see that in her friends. They had made it. They had all survived and grown old.

 

            “So,” Masaomi cut in dramatically, unbuttoning his cuffs and pushing up the sleeves. “First things first: how’s old Raira fairing, Ryuugamine-Sensei?”

 

            “Well, it’s become a bit more selective, and the kids have to study a lot more than we used to,” Mikado answered, smiling gently. “I barely knew there was a library there my first year, but now it’s always full of students working hard.”

 

            “I suppose there are worse things one could do with one’s youth, but it seems sad to just study all the time,” said Saki, taking a sip of tea.

 

            “That reminds me,” said Anri, remembering what Simon had mentioned earlier, “what’s Naoto doing at school during the summer holiday??”

 

            “Yes, he doesn’t have class today,” said Saki, her face lighting up behind her usual peaceful smile, “but he’s joined the school music club, and they meet on Saturday mornings, breaks too.”

 

            “He plays an instrument?” asked Mikado.

 

            “Yes, he plays the cello,” answered Saki. “He started last year.”

 

            “And he’s already good enough for the school music club? He must be very musical,” said Anri.

 

             “Well he always enjoyed chorus and used to sit in on Reiji’s piano lessons,” said Masaomi.

 

              “That’s him being musical,” said Saki, smiling at her husband.

           

            “It feels like years since I’ve seen your children,” said Mikado, just as Simon arrived with the sushi.

 

            “Simon, if you want I can help you set these out. You don’t have to bend or anything if you don’t want to!” Mikado exclaimed.

 

            “I don’t bend far anymore, but you no longer eat in the back room, so there isn’t a problem,” answered Simon. “No problems and plenty of crab. All of this crab is completely fresh, untouched by the yakuza or modern times.”

 

            “I’m very glad to hear that,” said Mikado, his tone completely earnest. Anri tried to parse from his face whether or not he had learned anything of the relationship between the Awakusu-kai and the crab trade, but not really caring either way. There was no danger to any of them whether he knew or not; Anri was certain now.

 

            The sushi was distributed down the table, and Simon took his leave of them.

 

* * *

 

            For a long, long time, Anri had never known what it meant to feel safe and comfortable with people. She had had to keep secrets and shrink herself away, where no one would notice if something was wrong. She had been frightened and distant and removed. Back when she first met Masaomi and Mikado, and even later, when she first met Saki, she could never have imagined that someday, she would be able to sit with them like this, talking so happily and comfortably, without having to worry about them hurting themselves or saika hurting them.

 

            She knew that the other three around the table had also once kept secrets, once hidden, had once been unable to feel at ease. Masaomi, whose good cheer used to cover the constant violence and fear of his life with the yellow scarves and who had been forced to drop out of high school, was explaining how his third child had chosen the cello because he was too small to use a full sized bass. Saki, who had been used so cruelly that her very survival had seemed like a miracle, whose quiet bravery had sustained her and the man that she had married through so much hardship, was happily finishing her cup of tea. Mikado, who had been so full of love and fear that he tried to kill and tried to die, was listening to his best friend since childhood speak without that alien, urgent energy that had almost destroyed him; he was just a man, happy for his friend, enjoying a piece of inari.

 

            And Anri herself? There were no more secrets, no more need to hide. As her eyes met Saki’s, she remembered that Saki had understood her own kind of love, and had, after the night they first met, never done anything but support her in loving and believing in herself. Watching Masaomi finally start his sushi, she remembered all the stories he had told her, catching her up on the lives of the people she loved, the people he had brought into her life, the bonds of friendship that he had been so dedicated to maintaining for the last three decades. Beside her sat Mikado, who had kept her company in Ikebukuro and in the possession of Saika.

 

            Saika was still there, of course, still whispering words of love to Anri. But these were not the only words of love in Anri’s head anymore. There was love, complete, peaceful, understanding, nurturing love, in every word, ever glance, every moment exchanged with her friends. The four of them had been building that love for more than thirty years and there was no reason to believe that it would ever be lost.


End file.
